Sweden's Boxers and a Dane's Revenge
by maizoon12
Summary: Nordics x Reader. A little drabble. Denmark takes a little revenge on you that ends up with you keeping Sweden's boxers


Sweden's Boxers and a Dane's Revenge

* * *

With a smile, you shut the door to the bathroom you shared with the Nordics. Yup, you lived with them and you loved it. Finland was always so cheerful, Iceland and Norway were amusing with their onii-chan arguments and Sweden was, well, Sweden. Denmark, on the other hand, was entertaining and annoying at the same time. He was your best friend and you two love to prank each other, which often led to Norway scolding both of you.

You see, you were the personification of (Country Name) and were located just above Norway and Sweden. So after you had gained your independence, they had wanted you to join them and move in.

Shrugging your clothes off and stepping into the shower, you turned on the water, still feeling giddy with what you just accomplished. You had put extreme hot sauce (your countries specialty) on Denmark's hotdog instead of ketchup and he had flipped. You knew how he hated to eat anything spicy or hot. His face turned red and he ran to the fridge to down some milk right out of the jug. Milk ran down his neck, drenching his shirt.

Hearing the door shut, you snapped out of the humorous memory.

"Hello?" you asked, thinking Finland, Iceland, or one of the other Nordics had just stepped in to grab something. Your mind was on high alert for the Dane tryin to get revenge. Sliding the curtain open a crack you took a quick glance out. Seeing nothing, you decided you just imagined it and slid the curtain closed.

Running your hands through your wet (Hair Colour) hair one last time, you shut the water off and opened the shower curtain. The cooler air of the bathroom met your wet skin making you shiver. Stretching your arm out you grabbed for the soft, green towel you had brought in with you, only for your hand to hit the cold surface of the sink.

_That's weird_, you thought. You were sure you left it there. You turned for your clothes only to find them not there either.

"Oh no," you said out loud. Searching through the cabinets and closet for some sort of covering, you found nothing. "Shit, that damn Dane! He did come in!"

Slowly opening the bathroom door, you poked your head out to look up and down the hallway. Gingerly you crept out and still saw no one. You decided it was now or never then bolted for you room (which just happened to be at the other end of the hall).

You threw your door open then slammed it behind you and ran for your dresser. Sliding your underwear draw open, you found nothing. _Shit_. You moved to your pants draw, nothing. _Shit._ Then you checked your shirt draw, empty._ Shit, shit, shit, shit!_ Each swear came from you with every draw you opened to find nothing.

"Damn it! He got me!" You practically screamed. Moving back towards your door, you again were going to go out there, naked. In the hallway. In a house with five men. Four out of the five really don't get much action. There was way too much testosterone in this house.

Cautiously you moved towards the nearest door. Opening it quietly, you made your way in. Looking at the white walls, neatly taken care of décor, and a bed with not a single crease in it, you realized you were in Sweden's room. Feeling awkward just standing naked in the Swedish's mans' room, you shuffled your feet towards his closet and opened it. You grabbed a pair of his boxers, with his country's flag on it, and slipped them on. Deciding to go out there with no shirt or bra was a bad idea, a very bad idea, you reached for one of his white t-shirts and threw it on.

With a huge blush on your face, you walked to the top of the stairs. You heard the big brother conversation going on between Norway and Iceland, Denmark saying something about Iceland buying bear until he says it, and Finland trying to calm Iceland down. You figured Sweden was just sitting there with his normal glare.

"Denmark!" You yelled, ready to kick his ass. Running down the stairs and turning the corner, you faced the five men. "What the hell did you do with all my clothes?!"

All eyes landed on you when you rounded the corner. You saw Finland's and Iceland's, face turn deep red. Norway was blushing, which was a rare sight. Denmark wore his signature cocky smile. There was even a slight tinge on Sweden's checks as he looked at you, that was the rarest sight of all.

You expected them to be surprised by seeing you in Sweden's t-shirt and boxers, but not to blush this badly. Wondering why, you looked down and your face turned scarlet as well. The shirt you wore stuck to you like a second skin and everything was visible underneath. It displayed your whole chest to the other Nordic countries. The blush spread to your ears and your neck. _This is bad._

What happened next was what pissed you off the most, Denmark's laughing. "Nice outfit (Name), you should dress like that more often!"

The cold glare you sent him could have sent Russia to high-hell and frozen over Egypt. The blonde man with anti-gravity hair froze.

"Denmark," You snarled through gritted teeth. "I am so going to kill you!" You ran and launched yourself at him. He yelped as you tackled him to the ground. You landed on top off him with full force but he quickly overpowered you. You felt his hands tickling your sides. You fought the urge to giggle. You were mad at this stupid idiot; you weren't supposed to be laughing. The urge was to o great and a loud laugh escaped your lips. The cheerful noise was bringing a smile to the other men's lips.

He quickly jumped off you and ran towards the living room, with you on his heels. You tackled him; sending both of you sprawled out on the floor once again.

From the kitchen, the four nations could here Denmark's yelps of pain and both off your colourfull language choices.

(Le Time Skip brought to you by the awesomeness of Prussia)

After many punches, vivid words and the occasional choking of Denmark's tie by Norway, all your clothes were returned to you.

Walking down the stairs now dried and dressed comfortably, you walked into the living room containing the five handsome men you lived with. Norway had a satisfied look on his face while sitting next to the dazed Dane. His face was still pale from the choking and loss of blood to his brain.

You were just about to sit down next to the still blushing Sweden, when you heard the King of Northern Europe speak up, "Why are you still wearing Su-san's boxers?"

A smile tugged on your lips as you plopped down next to said man, "Eh, there soft and comfy, so I'm keeping them."


End file.
